Bloodstains
by crimeson-plasma
Summary: It was through certain unknown methods that Melkor created the Orcs during the first age within the pits of Utumno, from those who were ensnared by him.


I have been re-reading Silmarillion for a while and this fanfic is entirely the product of me being far too obsessed with Tolkien's work as well as having read far too many fanfics from this fandom. Really, the obsession I have with this work and the characters that appear in it is far too high right now (not that I complain, I love it). This will also be part one of the series of fanfics I intend to make based on small excerpts of Silmarillion, which will probably be a chapter each (unless I decide to make them longer).

Anyways, this fanfic is just an idea I had when reading page 47 of my copy of the book. Specifically: _"But of those unhappy ones who were ensnared by Melkor little is known of a certainty. For who of the living has descended into the pits of Utumno, or has explored the darkness of the counsels of Melkor? Yet it is held true by the wise of Eressëa, that all those of the Quendi who came into the hands of Melkor, ere Utumno was broken, were put there in prison, and by slow arts of cruelty were corrupted and enslaved; and thus Melkor breed the hideous race of the Orcs in envy and mockery of the Elves, of whom they were afterwards the bitterest of foes."_ Please take in mind that this is probably a high T rating. I hope you enjoy! Please comment saying what you thought of this small piece!

#

I gaze down, looking at the group of first sons which had arrived not so long ago before the gates of Utumno. I, of course, had already seen their appearance and how they looked before, proud and dignified, curious and expectant. However, bound in heavy chains and terrified, within a pitch black room and out of their element, they looked completely different. Pleasant, almost, if that could ever be possible. This… change of their physicality, however, did not have anything to do with the scars that loitered the previously unmarred skin of a few. Not even gracing the complexion of the whole group of elves, just a mere few of them. It was almost beautiful how a few 'events' on an individual could have a radical impact on such a many number. I breathed in through the flesh-suit I wore and let a smile grace my lips. I knew exactly what I would do, the thing that would undoubtedly be the best thing to do with my prisoners, further my aims and anger my brother the most. I knew exactly what I, Melkor, would do.

"Ready the room, Sauron" I quickly order my lieutenant, who had been standing beside me for an unspecified amount of time. It was hard to tell the pass of time, whatever quantity it may be in the darkness.

The maia nods. "Yes master", he says with an almost mellifluous voice, and walks away with a quick and decisive pace. Knowing exactly what I was referring to. It was him who usually was in that room, being the creator of a few of the machines that filled it, but it was I who would occupy it now… and for quite an amount of time. He was completely merciless, greatly so, and this was something quick to see in the machines he had put together. It was a strange kind of creativity, the one he had. He had proved to be a loyal and useful servant, the maia. Not that I would ever speak of it aloud.

My smile widens as I take in the current appearance of the first sons still before me. I had seen it before… and I would do wonders with it now. Within the group of fifteen, some had come unwillingly to my fortress and others less so: Attracted instead by the sweet words spoken by me and some of my other servants. It did not matter though, of course, wonders would be made either way. They had been sitting since they entered my fortress within a small room, which soon had become unbearingly crowded and foul-smelling for them. I ignored how much time it had been exactly since they had been taken prisoners of and enslaved, but it was not important. The room had previously been heavily locked, but there was not such an important need for such security now. Such was the way in which the first sons had changed.

I took a further step towards the group, watching with delight as they cowarded further against the wall. I pointed towards one of the individuals, not truly managing to recognise him well except for the scars that were present already on his face. Like some of the others, he is covered in what seems like various types of filth, and this one in particular has blood nested within his pale hair.

He quickly burst into tears, shaking and begging me to spare him. Begging me to leave him alone and spare him the pain that he knew would be inflicted. I feel my smile grow at this, and, feeling especially good in the moment, I decide to give an offer to the first born. Before I can say anything, however, I feel the presence of my lieutenant again behind me.

"The room is ready, master" he speaks, not needing to say anything else.

I look back and not towards him, not needing to say anything and knowing he understands my gesture. I am too busy with the task at hand to waste time with words. I proceed to pay attention again to the being in front of me instead.

"I can offer you a way to avoid any harm that comes to you", I say.

The first born abruptly ceased to shake and looked at me, tears flowing slower now. "I will do anything! What is it you wish, my lord?"

I grin at this, noting the change of address used towards me. "To avoid the pain, you just have to pick someone else to take your place. It is a simple matter." I say with a particularly calm and harmonious tone of voice, which contrasted deeply with the atmosphere and aspect of where I was at.

I watch as the elf looks around the room. First at my lieutenant, still behind me, then back at me, and finally around himself. More precisely at the rest of his kin, who now bear similar expressions of terror than him. His sight sets on me quickly, wearing a terrified but perhaps more relieved look, and he nods profusely.

"Thank you! Thank you!" he shouts, desperate, and points towards another one of his kin. "Take her instead! Anyone except me, please!".

I grin at this and look at Sauron. My lieutenant understands and, as I retreat out of the room and back into the hallway, he grabs the being that the first one to be addressed had pointed at by the hair with that brutal way he handles creatures he does not care for. Soon, he is following me towards the machine-room I had referred to earlier, dragging the kicking and screaming being with him. For a moment, it is hard to believe he originally had been a great craftsman of the household of Aulë.

I enter the room, dark and strangely bare despite the different machines filling it, followed by my lieutenant and the still-lively being still being dragged. I nod towards Sauron, "drop it, I want to take care of this by myself. If you wish you can leave the room" I say.

He drops the being and takes a few steps back, but otherwise makes no move to leave the room. I notice this and, pleased with his loyalty and apparent cruelty, I grab the being and quickly put it on one of the machines: a particularly nasty-looking one with spikes and some rope. I feel my power clearly rushing through me as I start operating the machine, seeing clearly in my mind the end result which I want to achieve. The room feels as if it has suddenly darkened. Screams soon fill the room and hallways, surely reaching the place where the other fourteen are locked in, and I let myself remind me of what I want to achieve, of the race I will create to further my aims. Blood spills and the screams soon rise in potency and intensity. My lieutenant still stands on the spot he was before, and I am fully aware of the expression he wears.

'It shall be glorious' I think.


End file.
